


so try thinking with your heart

by inconsistentlypresent (Mossy_Bench)



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: 5+1 Things, Eventually Resolved Romantic Tension, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossy_Bench/pseuds/inconsistentlypresent
Summary: I squeezed her hand, not knowing what else to say. When something bothered me, I worried over it constantly like it was a loose tooth, whether I wished to or not. Daisy was the opposite, and though I often envied her dispassion, the way she pushed down any troublesome emotion was beginning to concern me.Or, five times Hazel and Daisy held hands, and one time they didn’t.
Relationships: Daisy Wells/Hazel Wong
Kudos: 22
Collections: Ladies Bingo 2020





	so try thinking with your heart

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from ["We'll Be Together Again"](https://youtu.be/TMCY3vHv0Z8) by the Pied Pipers (a song that's also included in my Daisy/Hazel [fanmix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26097817)).
> 
> Written for the prompt "Soulmates" for [Ladies Bingo](https://ladiesbingo.dreamwidth.org/)!

**i. July 1935**

Over Lavinia's snores, I heard the lightest of footsteps. I raised my head and saw the faint glow of Daisy’s blonde hair. “You can’t sleep either, Watson?” she whispered as she climbed in next to me in bed.

I nodded and settled my head back onto my pillow. Indeed, I couldn't. Anticipation for tomorrow had formed a tight knot in my stomach. Staring up at the dark ceiling hadn't been helping, but perhaps Daisy's company would.

She nudged me so I would give her more pillow space and I acquiesced, secretly glad that she had chosen to lie so close. “Bertie gave me Murder on the Orient Express, and it’s got me dreadfully excited.”

I frowned as fiercely as I could manage, though in the darkness I wasn’t sure she could tell. She had just hit upon another of my worries. “Please don’t say that in front of my father tomorrow.”

“I won’t, I won’t,” said Daisy with a soft sigh. I felt the warmth of it skim my ear.

I hesitated. “How is Bertie? I mean, how is he liking Cambridge?”

“How should I know? He hasn’t written me yet. He really is so forgetful.” Her tone was light, but she had gone quite tense beside me.

"Oh." I tried to think of something comforting to say. "Well, I've heard all sorts of wonderful things about Cambridge. My father says it's one of the best places in the world. I'm sure he's all right."

"Of _course_ he's alright." Her shoulder pressed to mine quivered, slight but unmistakeable. "Bertie's not nearly as clever as I am, he's probably just extremely busy studying whatever useless things one does at university."

I turned on my side, and Daisy did as well, so we were properly face to face. The faint moonlight fell perfectly across her cheek, highlighting her quivering eyelashes and the downturn of her mouth. It was so typical of her to look lovely no matter what. “I’m excited for tomorrow too, but worries keep popping into my head,” I told her. “I handle boats so terribly. And we have to take a ferry across the Channel!”

I had said it to distract her, but as I spoke, real nerves came through my voice.

Daisy immediately threaded her fingers through mine. “Really, Hazel! Detectives ought to have stronger constitutions.” She slipped easily into her correcting-Hazel tone. "You're lucky that I'll be there with you."

I squeezed her hand, not knowing what else to say. When something bothered me, I worried over it constantly like it was a loose tooth, whether I wished to or not. Daisy was the opposite, and though I often envied her dispassion, the way she pushed down any troublesome emotion was beginning to concern me.

***

**ii. November 1935**

Daisy gloried in finding nooks and crannies in Deepdean. "It's important to have backup meeting locations," she had told me as we approached the airing cupboard. "Now go pretend we're having a very important meeting. I'll be outside, to see how discrete you can be."

I had sighed but gone into the dark cupboard. Daisy made me conduct tests with my flashlight, to see if it was visible from the outside, and experiment with speaking volume. I found it all a bit pointless, but when there were no murders, Daisy felt the need to make her own fun. If she stopped to breathe, if instead of always looking outside her was forced to look within—I was not sure what would happen.

Next, Daisy wanted me to pretend to take meeting notes, to see if I could write quietly enough that someone outside couldn't hear. With my flashlight still on, I opened my yellow casebook. I had nearly finished writing up the Case of the Murder of Elizabeth Hurst, but I wasn't done writing what happened to the rest of the Five after Enid was taken away. Now was as good a time as any, I supposed.

I had barely written a sentence when Daisy said, impatiently, "You _are_ writing, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

"I don't care for your attitude, Hazel," Daisy said with a muffled sniff.

And I did not care for being all alone in a cupboard. I turned off my flashlight. "It seems I can write quietly enough. There's nothing else, is there?"

Daisy didn't respond. But I could picture her as if there were no door: standing right outside the cupboard, hands clasped behind her like her father, frowning at my impudence and at the fact that I was correct.

"I'm coming in, Watson," Daisy announced and flung the cupboard open. I winced at the light. Thankfully, she quickly climbed in and closed it, shrouding the two of us in darkness.

"I know you consider this a waste of your time," Daisy said as she sat down, jostling my knee with her own. "But one day we shall be twenty, and no longer have a dorm to always meet in. We must practice discreetness now so we are absolutely perfect later."

"I understand, I do," I said reluctantly. Daisy spoke so easily of being adults. I could not imagine it. I supposed I might be in university, but even that idea was vague. "While we're here, I might as well finish what I was writing. I’m so close to being finished.”

I turned on my flashlight. “Is that _really_ how you were holding it before?” Daisy said, leaning in.

Still rather annoyed, I responded, "No, it’s not”—perhaps too loudly. For suddenly the cupboard door opened with a bang.

I yelped, and Daisy did too, though she'd probably deny it. I flung my casebook under me. Meanwhile, Daisy seized my hand to turn off the flashlight and conceal it from view, for she knew it was contraband, and that, though it was small, it was still too big for me to hide in my palm alone. And why not? Girls at Deepdean held hands all the time. But I did feel funny about it in this instance.

"I _thought_ I heard voices—oh." Margaret Dolliswood stared down at us. "It's you two. Why-?" She looked at our linked hands and my guilty expression, and drew her own conclusions.

"I, uh. I see," said Margaret. "I mean, I can't say I'm surprised." She looked as uncomfortable as I felt. "I won't report you and I'll, er, leave you to it. But, see here, you can't let me just find you like this! Wells, Wong, learn to be more discreet, all right?"

I nodded, wanting nothing more than for her to leave. "Yes, Margaret, of course," Daisy said, sugary sweet. If Margaret hadn't wanted to get away as soon as possible, she might have noticed Daisy gritting her teeth.

Margaret closed the door and I heard her quick footsteps as she hurried away. Daisy immediately dropped my hand and kicked the door open again. "Oh, how infuriating!" she hissed. "Even Margaret Dolliswood thinks we need practice." She would not meet my eyes.

My cheeks burned, and I hoped desperately that we would never come back to this cupboard again.

***

**iii. January 1936**

Several days after Christmas, Daisy's Great Aunt Eustacia allowed the two of us to take a morning walk on our own around Cambridge. We wandered the quiet campus, which was muffled by the snow that had fallen the night before. It sank satisfyingly under our feet as we passed dormant buildings. My father might have once walked this very same path. The thought filled me with warmth.

I sighed contently, my breath creating a white puff in the cold air. "After our walk, shall we try some of the puzzle books Alexander gave us?" We would be meeting with the Junior Pinkertons for tea, and I wanted something ready to say, instead of getting tongue-tied as usual.

"I suppose," Daisy said, which was as good an affirmation aa I was going to get from her for anything having to do with Alexander.

"Since our books are the same, we can compete to see who can solve them faster," I suggested.

Daisy's voice became slightly but noticeably brighter. "Well, if you insist."

I glanced over at Daisy beside me. I considered myself quite used to her beauty, but sometimes it would hit me again. Winter truly became her, just as everything did. Her beautiful blue coat complemented perfectly her soft pink cheeks and our snowy white surroundings.

I got a lump in my throat, and ducked my head, feeling self-conscious.

We were about to turn a corner when we saw movement somewhere to our left. Before I could process it, Daisy was already in motion.

“Hurry, Hazel!” Daisy yanked at my hand so hard my glove almost came off, pulling me behind the column of one of Cambridge’s grand buildings. “Oh, how fortunate!”

I peeked and saw George and Alexander walking together down the snowy path. They hadn't seen us. George looked serene, hands in his pockets, dressed immaculately as always. Alexander was happily chattering to him in that wide-open manner that made English people uncomfortable. Even from this distance he was handsome. I thought of his current infatuation with Daisy (Daisy, who was as closed off as he was open!) and was filled with envy, though of whom I was not certain.

Not enjoying feeling so confused, I turned back to Daisy. “Why are we hiding? Oughtn’t we to say hello?”

“Don’t you see? They have no idea we’re here. We can’t let this opportunity pass us by!” Daisy knelt and began gathering snow in her gloved hands. As beautiful as she had been earlier, _this_ was the true Daisy—the too-bright gleam in her eyes and the conviction that she was always, always right.

I knew _of_ snowball fights, from my books back home, but had never been in one myself. “They’re too far away to hit,” I protested. I also didn't know if I had the courage to lob a snowball at either George, who would immediately retaliate, or Alexander, who was simply too nice for it. But Daisy would not take kindly to this sort of reasoning. The moment I said Alexander’s name, she would hear nothing else but the rush of blood in her ears. And so I followed Daisy's lead, crouching beside her.

The freezing cold of the snow was awful even through my gloves. I shivered.

“We shall sneak up from behind and ambush them,” said Daisy. “Now look, Watson, you have to pack it tightly, into a perfect sphere. I’ll show you.” She put her hands over mine, lending my numb fingers a bit of warmth, and squeezed.

I examined the result. It was not a perfect sphere, but it was my first snowball.

I looked over at Daisy and had an idea that immediately made me feel guilty all over.

A moment later, George and Alexander were startled by me running towards them while Daisy shrieked, “And after I helped you!” and barreled after me, sparkling chunks of snow flying off her golden hair.

***

**iv. June 1936**

It was a gorgeous June day outside, clear and bright like a storybook illustration. At least it looked that way through the window.

I looked back at my open book with a sigh. It was dull and not the sort of book I enjoyed reading, but we would be having our last exams soon. It turned out that if one spent most of their time reading mysteries and practicing secret codes, schoolwork would pile up in the meantime.

I looked about me. Lavinia, at a desk to my right, was brute-forcing through her work as usual, pressing her pencil in too hard into the paper. Kitty, to my left, was staring longingly out the window just as I had. Up ahead sat Beanie, still awkward in her new height. I couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders were tensed and she kept crossing and uncrossing her feet.

My mind turned, at last, to Daisy, seated directly behind me. Was she worried? She had been spending as little time studying this term as I had. And I knew the way Deepdean had changed while we were in Hong Kong was still weighing on her. Perhaps she had that Daisyish frustrated wrinkle in her nose.... Imagining it gave my chest a now-familiar twinge. I wished I could comfort her as easily as I had gotten her into the school play.

It felt like ages, but Prep finally ended. The five of us walked rather dispiritedly through the hallways.

“Isn’t this all so tedious!” Daisy said. “I will be glad when I no longer have to go to school and learn useless things.”

“You’re not interested in university?” Beanie said. “But Daisy, you’re so clever!”

“No, all she wants is to be presented at Court and then marry a lord,” said Kitty. They all laughed, for they knew by now how untrue that was.

But I was stuck on what Daisy had said. I remembered Saint Lucy’s, Amanda’s tired eyes and isolation. Once I had been sure I would go to an English university, but more and more I was beginning to agree with Daisy. I could not learn what I wanted to there. I imagined how disapproving my father would be if he knew my current thoughts and winced. The future yawned before me, full of murky shadow. No way seemed right.

“Now, Hazel, don’t be po-faced.” Daisy linked her arm with my limp one, jerking it up forcefully. “Exams will be over soon, you shall see. And I’m sure you’ll do well.”

That pulled a reluctant smile out of me. Daisy’s attempts at being encouraging always did, for though they weren’t always very good, the effort alone was meaningful. And she _was_ getting better at it. Not that I’d tell her that.

I revised my thoughts on the future. Though it still seemed impenetrable, there was one constant: no matter what, Daisy would be at my side. My heart leaped gladly at the thought. I bit my lip, hoping the others wouldn’t notice the embarrassed flush in my cheeks.

Lavinia groaned. “Ugh, let’s not talk about exams anymore. Did you see Miss Lappet’s stupid new hairstyle today? Apparently she got it done in preparation for the Anniversary weekend.”

Kitty eagerly jumped on the new topic, and the conversation moved on, though my mind had not. Daisy joined in too, saying something witty and somewhat shocking that caused Beanie to squeak. But her arm remained tucked around mine, and as we walked she squeezed my hand gently.

It felt so _right_. I tried not to analyse the feeling, but that was simply what my mind did, and had done for months now. No matter how much I told myself, _But what about Alexander? He’s a boy!_ —and to add to the confusion, it was true; I did like him very much—I couldn’t deny what I felt about Daisy. I knew exactly what it was. And I knew I could not ignore it forever.

***

**v. December 1936**

Uncle Felix and Aunt Lucy stepped back into the library. They saw the tear tracks on my cheeks, saw that I was still clutching at Daisy’s hand like she would disappear if I let go, and saw the ridiculous grin on my face. “You’ve said yes, then?” Aunt Lucy said to me.

“She did,” said Daisy, answering for me. Her eyes were still quite shiny, but her voice was level. I supposed she’d practiced composure enough over the last several weeks days. My heart ached thinking of what she'd had to endure. Perhaps it was good that she was so adept at pushing down her emotions, unlike me.

We looked over at each other at the same time; it seemed we could not get enough of the sight of each other. My stomach swooped gladly at seeing her beside me again, and at her expression. It was not a usual Daisy expression. It was almost tender. Then it flickered and disappeared, leaving me to wonder if I'd imagined it.

“Excellent!” Uncle Felix said, “Hazel, I’m sure you're curious as to the logistics of this, and how to tell your family. Come with me, we'll get it all sorted right now.”

I quickly looked away from Daisy and dropped her hand. My palm was unfortunately sweaty. “Uh, yes, that’s a good idea.”

“ _Felix_ ,” Aunt Lucy said, reproachfully, but with an amused undercurrent.

“What?” They exchanged looks and Uncle Felix reddened a bit. "Oh, _that_. Well—all right. You two can have a bit more time to yourselves. Lucy and I have something to discuss privately.”

They quickly left the room. I shook my head, amused. Though I had gotten to know Uncle Felix better since Fallingford, he was still mysterious as ever. I found I didn't mind. I trusted him and Aunt Lucy to treat me as an adult.

I turned back to Daisy. “Have you told anyone beside Amina that you're alive?” I asked.

“No,” Daisy said. “Just-just her.” She flushed a bit under my gaze.

A queer pang went through my chest when she said that. I internally scolded myself. How could I still be jealous? Daisy was allowed to fall in and out of love as she wished. I ought to just be grateful that Daisy was back and had come to see me first.

“I wanted to talk to you and Bertie both,” Daisy continued, “but Uncle Felix said I should do this one at a time. And I see what he meant. I don’t think I can face Bertie tonight. I know he's hurting awfully, and I'm—I'm scared.”

I looked at her and saw how much she'd changed.

“I’ll have to tell my father I’m leaving,” I said. “Besides him...I want George and Alexander to know.” I saw her eyes start to narrow. Or was I just seeing what I wanted to see? “And the rest of the Detective Society,” I added quickly. “I don’t like Kitty and Beanie and Lavinia still thinking you’re dead, but even if they must—they ought to at least know what I’m doing.”

“Uncle Felix is being terribly strict about who I can tell,” Daisy said, “but you just need to persuade him they’ll keep quiet.”

I nodded, smiling. “They will. They are wonderfully reliable when it counts.”

Daisy smiled too, though it was wavering slightly. “Oh, Watson.” She leaned against me, face averted so all I saw was her cheek. “I’m so glad that...that we’re together again.”

An enormous love welled up inside me. Perhaps it would overwhelm me if I hadn’t become intimately familiar with it by now. As it was, I bore it.

And I was determined, now more than ever, to continue to bear it. For Daisy was my dearest friend. I would not give that up for anything. In that moment I resolved to embrace her and Amina, or whoever else caught her eye, even though it might be difficult. A jealous friend was not a friend at all.

After making that decision, it was as though a great burden had been lifted from my shoulders. When Uncle Felix and Aunt Lucy returned to the library, they saw that I had relaxed. Even the prospect of telling my father what I was doing didn't make me too nervous. Since Egypt, he finally understood me. No, I was simply full of excitement for the future with Daisy at my side.

And whatever else between us that was yet unresolved—well, that was not anything that could, or should, be addressed right now.

***

**+1 May 1946**

Heart in my throat, I kneeled beside her. “Watson, are you alright?”

Hazel nodded slowly, her eyes drifting to the alley corner, where Mr. Stinton had run off, limping from the bullet wound I gave him. Little did he know that the London police had already surrounded the entire street. “Don’t you want to follow him and see his arrest?”

“Hazel, don’t be ridiculous. You’re _bleeding_.”

She was silent as I began bandaging her arm. It was not a serious wound—I had arrived just in time—but it still made me quite furious to see. She’d been too close to becoming a serial killer’s next victim. Such risks came with the job, and perhaps I ought to be used to it by now. But it was different with Hazel.

“I feel like the luckiest person on earth,” Hazel said suddenly. There was an odd quality to her voice. It made me feel prickly all over.

“Oh, dear. Have you lost more blood than I thought?” I said lightly.

But Hazel continued in that same pensive tone. “I never thought as a little girl that this was what I’d be doing in my twenties. But I did know we would be together.”

I was suddenly very aware of how close we were, and quickly withdrew my hands from her freshly bandaged arm. Why, I could...I could lean over and kiss her, we were so close.

I could not say truthfully that the thought had never crossed my mind before, but it was perhaps the first time I’d not dismissed it right away.

I averted my eyes from her face. My gaze fell instead on her hands, rising and falling as if she didn’t know what to do with them. My own hands twitched seeing them.

“Of course,” I said, absolutely not breathless at all. “What would we do without one another?”

I was afraid to look up. Normally, I wouldn’t. But this time I could not stand it.

I saw her face, still pale from her injury, and what was written on it. And she must have seen what was written on mine.

“Oh, Daisy, I’m—I’m sorry,” Hazel blurted before lifting her hands to cup my face and draw me close.

The feeling of her lips on mine was a shock, leaving the edges of my vision sparking and bright. My mind was whirring too fast. It seemed like something out of a dream, a thing I’d longed for subconsciously, too impossible to be real. Yet it was. The tickle of Hazel’s hair against my face and the softness of her lips were all incredibly, exhilaratingly real.

She pulled away too soon and looked at me with a dreadfully guilty expression. It always did give her away, even as an adult.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. Tears were starting in the corners of her eyes. “I’m really quite shaken and I’m still not in my right mind, I didn’t mean to...”

My skin tingled where her fingers had been. “Hazel Wong,” I said. This time, I’d admit, my voice wobbled, very slightly. In the distance, I heard policemen shouting at one another. It would shock my younger self that I ignored it, but some things really were more important than a case. “You are entirely too daring. I cannot believe _you_ kissed me first. And in a dingy old alleyway, no less!”

Hazel was about to start another stream of apologies, but then froze, and stared at me. Her lips were still quivering. “But—Amina?” She sounded so confused. My heart swelled with an emotion that I had taken too long to name.

“Good lord, haven’t I told you already that we both decided to simply be friends? That was _ages_ ago.”

Hazel fidgeted. “Well, of course I didn’t believe you.” I gave her an affronted look. “The two of you were on and off all the time!”

“It was a rather volatile thing,” I admitted. “But oh, don’t you see that it was always”—my words were tripping over each other in my rush to get them out—“it was always going to be the two of us?”

Hazel wiped her eyes as I waited with bated breath for what she’d say. Perhaps it would be something about Alexander, even though I knew they had stopped romantically seeing each other ages ago. Perhaps it would be a confession nearly as beautiful as mine. Or perhaps it would even be a rejection. My pulse pounded in my ears.

“Finally,” she said, and beamed so brightly that it banished any lingering shadows of doubt in my mind. “I was waiting for you for _ages_.”

I threw my arms around her, making a rather embarrassing noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. I was relieved when Hazel silenced it by seeking my lips again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Typo-spotting and constructive criticism are always welcome, as are any other comments/feedback. I love to hear people's thoughts!
> 
> I can be found on Tumblr at [inconsistentlypresent](https://inconsistentlypresent.tumblr.com) and the MMU Discord. (HMU if you want a link to the latter.) I also have a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mossy_bench) but it's inactive AF.


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